


Evanescence

by vaccinatemyheart



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2018-12-12 17:10:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11741514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaccinatemyheart/pseuds/vaccinatemyheart
Summary: Wonwoo is always Mingyu's; and Mingyu, Wonwoo's. They're always each other's no matter what.





	1. Broken

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve already had the second part drafted, so don’t worry my fellow friends, this story has a **happy ending.** The first part’s just a little dramatic.
> 
> Not super refined, so please excuse me and or help me. But otherwise, this story was loosely inspired by Everything I Didn’t Say by 5SOS.
> 
>   _Pro tip : Italicized words are all flashback, both before and after the fight._

Winter was never too cold for Mingyu. He liked how the cold numbed his lips and limbs, offering an unguilty leeway to light up a cigarette or chug some whiskey to warm his body and forget the culpability chipping at his heart for a painless, blunt and fuzzy minute. Wonwoo much preferred it when Mingyu’s breath tasted like strawberry schnapps and mints, frozen lips and fingers defrosting under the other’s touch. Slowly, in a lazy pace, their fingers and lips tracing each other’s moles and lines, fit for winter Sundays.  


 

Or that’s how it used to be.

 

Mingyu walked down the snowy gravel just like all the other days, searching the empty, snow tainted streets for his beautiful lover. Within the past five months, it had somehow become a routine to exit the house with only a jacket and no gloves, forcing the cold to numb him willingly. If Wonwoo were by his side, he would scold him for being so nonchalant.

 

_“You’ll catch a cold, Gyu. I told you to bring your scarf,” he nagged._

_“Then why don’t you warm me up, baby?” Mingyu chuckled, leaning into Wonwoo cheekily, frozen hand snaking its way into the other’s jacket in search of Wonwoo’s slender, warm fingers._

_“’Course,” Wonwoo mumbled, gripping tighter and kissing the edge of Mingyu’s lips._

_“What do you think about pizza?” He hummed._

_“I’m feeling more burger.”_

_“Well let’s get both then,” Mingyu pecked him full on the lips._

 

Wonwoo would also like kissing under the streetlight he’s walking under, pulling Mingyu’s collar among bright multi-coloured lights strung up for Christmas and New Year’s Eve. He missed Wonwoo’s lips on his, sticky berry lip balm sealing two mouths together.

 

He once lost Wonwoo over the stupid mistakes he did, trivial problems not so trivial – a heart not broken into two, but shattered and crumbled into non-existence. So much, that picking up the pieces was impossible, since for Mingyu, he didn’t understand how to differentiate the broken pieces from his and Wonwoo’s – though Wonwoo’s heart was probably already collected and stored in a frosted jar, while Mingyu’s was left mixing with the dirt on the ground.

 

Mingyu forgot how it was to spend a morning not waking up to have his vision blurred by hot tears, a norm he had come to adapt while mourning over Wonwoo’s leaving, the habit subsiding from an ugly wail, to a sniffle, and finally in numb acceptance – his right side left cold, void of the morning snuggle that pressed against the length of his entire body upon waking hours.

 

_“Baby, your toes are cold.”_

_“Mm, but you’re so warm,” Wonwoo murmured, slotting his head into the crook of Mingyu’s neck, finding a couple hours of purchase in the small space._

_“Come closer,” Mingyu breathed, carding his fingers through soft locks and shuffling closer to rest his cheek against his forehead, pulling closer to disintegrate any bare thread spaces left between them._

 

Mingyu would be a bigger liar if he said his actions for the past half a year wasn’t a mistake. He would admit a thousand times to Wonwoo, down on his knees, that his wrong doings were immensely unforgivable, _a sin._ But right past his guilty mistakes, underneath his pale flesh, alcohol tainted blood, and now ice frosted over heart, he loved, _loves,_ Wonwoo terribly with every ounce of his willpower – so much that if Mingyu were to lose his energy and fall on the streets because of hypothermia, Wonwoo’s name would be the last words on his lips, that would mix with the morning fog and disappear within the winter air.

 

_“Good morning, Won.”_

_“Hey,” he cracked a lazy grin, limbs stretching._

_“The air’s cold this morning isn’t it?”_

_“It’s okay when I’m with you,” he smiled, eyes crinkling into crescents._

 

He didn’t know when the shift happened, but it definitely took place very, very slowly in the beginning. It occurred as if the world was tilting off its axis subtly, to cover the obviousness of upcoming disaster, and then falling right off over the time, crashing the universe fully.

 

Three years into their relationship, he never bothered buying Wonwoo flowers when he got home, the scent of nectar failing to waft around the apartment. And nor did Mingyu bother kissing Wonwoo’s cheek as a sign of affection when Wonwoo waited by the door when hearing Mingyu’s footsteps echoing in the corridor, lips ready to greet him with a warm smile, and arms a _welcome home._ Mingyu remembered brushing aside Wonwoo, and how Wonwoo’s smile had flinched off his face. He remembered thinking he was too fucking tired to care.

 

_“Baby, I’m home,” Mingyu announced at the doorway, off-balancedly toeing off his shoes, neat flowers loosely gripped on his left hand, fumbling to steady himself with the other free hand on the knob._

_Wonwoo padded to go fetch Mingyu, only to send him a glare when he caught sight of a few dark red carnations tied at the stem. “Mingyu, you shouldn’t have wasted money on those,” he frowned._

_“I got the job. Interview went well,” he kissed Wonwoo’s cheek._

_Wonwoo grinned. “That’s amazing, Gyu. Celebratory dinner?”_

 

Mingyu vaguely remembered the days he would return home late, drunk out of his mind with blurry eyes. Wonwoo got used to the system of sitting still on the couch waiting for the shrill ring of Mingyu’s phone call, fingers twiddling around each other in anxiousness – and Mingyu faintly recalled seeing the worry and relief flood through Wonwoo when his eyes found a silhouette stumble its way through the door. He never felt guilty for worrying Wonwoo and keeping him up late, and when Wonwoo would softly throw himself into his arms in relief, Mingyu would only slur a few drunken words and walk past him to pass out on the bed, the smell shifting from fabric conditioner to grits and smoke.

 

_“Mingyu,” he exclaimed in relief. “Thank god you’re home.”_

_“Jesus Wonwoo, it’s already hot, don’t suffocate me. I’m home aren’t I? Let me sleep.”_

 

Mingyu would much rather spend his time with mutual colleagues at the bar downtown, drowning his system with shots of alcohol as he wasted their rent money playing billiard and casino whilst falling into debt. He never found himself home tired from long shifts of various jobs anymore. Instead, he started smelling like venom and cheap motels, a disgusting mix of street smell sticking onto Mingyu, instead of the sweet scent of fabric softener and Wonwoo’s shampoo that used to cling onto him like a personal perfume.

 

_“Hey baby. Are you coming home soon? I made that seafood stew you’ve been asking all of last week.” Mingyu didn’t hear how hopeful Wonwoo had sounded on the phone, annoyance itching at his own throat at how the other couldn’t leave him alone for a night for himself._

_“I’m not coming home. Just put the soup in the fridge or something. Don’t wait up.”_

_“But Gyu, it’s getting late and–” Wonwoo’s grin fell off his face._

_“Wonwoo just go sleep or something.” And all Wonwoo heard after was the mocking dial tone ringing at his ear._

_–_

_“Jun. Jun, he’s not picking up his phone,” Wonwoo’s voice cracked over the static phone, mind and hand a scramble in search for his car keys._

_“Wonwoo, don’t get out of the house. You listen to me? I’m coming over and we’ll go look together okay?”_

_Jun had stayed with Wonwoo on the phone throughout his drive, only agreeing to hanging up over the line for two and a half minutes when Wonwoo insisted to check his phone for Mingyu’s calls. Jun had called back right after the two minutes, blabbering words of nonsense to calm the other down, and when he reached, he had to grab at Wonwoo’s wrist to gently to stir him out of his panic, coaxing soothing words into his head before getting him to put on some shoes and a scarf before going out to look for the other’s boyfriend._

_“Wonwoo, it’s okay. We’ll find him okay? It’s okay,” Jun coaxed, eyes flitting over the road and the shivering figure beside him._

_“I tried calling Seungcheol but he isn’t picking up his phone either. If Mingyu’s out, he should be out drinking with him,” Wonwoo let out shakily._

_“Do you have anyone else’s number?”_

_“No,” he whispered._

_“Let’s just go around his office and try looking around there okay? Don’t worry Won,” Jun convinced._

_When Jun had ran around the area of Mingyu’s office for over a good 45 minutes with a frantic and weakening Wonwoo in tow, he wasn’t sure if the feeling that washed over him was gratefulness or white rage when he saw Mingyu draped across the table, passed out over a pool of beer with a drunk Seungcheol by his side._

_“Mingyu, oh my god.” Wonwoo’s voice had cracked, in sync with his heart._

_Mingyu didn’t know how he was carried on Jun’s shoulder with struggle towards his car, nor did he remember Wonwoo nursing after him throughout the car ride back home and the entire night. When he woke up the next morning with bile in his throat, he didn’t notice he was put into fresh clothes when he brushed past Wonwoo in annoyance to get to the toilet._

_“Fuck, my head,” he grumbled, hand pressing on his head to stop the headache._

_“Are you okay, Gyu?” Wonwoo’s question hung ignored in the bedroom._

_Jun had asked him that night quietly, when he was shrugging his coat on before leaving the threshold after disposing a drunk Mingyu, voice neutral as to not sound forceful or accusing. “Wonwoo, are you sure this is even okay? It’s not healthy Won. He’s been going on about like this for too long,” he said, voice laced with concern for his best friend._

_“It’s okay Jun, he’ll be okay, just give him some time.”_

_“How much longer Wonwoo? You told me you’ve been the one taking care of rents these past few months. He’s wasting his money gambling, Wonwoo. He can’t do this, it’s irresponsible,” Jun argued, voice clearly distressed over his sentences._

_“He’s helped all this while, Jun. It’s just these past few days,” Wonwoo defended weakly, tired off his bones from the emotional baggage._

_Jun sighed, giving up. “Just, call me if anything okay? Reach Minghao if I don’t answer. You can call Joshua or his boyfriend too,” he offered.  
_

__

__

_“I’ll be okay, Jun. Drive safe.”_

_With a last gather of Wonwoo in his arms, Jun left with a heavy heart of sympathy for his best friend, and Wonwoo had leaned against the door, contemplating. While Jun went home to a boyfriend of warm hugs and sweet smile, Wonwoo was left with a stoic boyfriend he didn’t recognize anymore._

_Everything was not okay._

 

Wonwoo stayed, despite the times he felt unloved, unappreciated, unceasingly alone. He stayed through the struggles, albeit having to be pushed to bear the responsibility of handling all living expenses and quality for two – when he had agreed to working overtime in his office for extra cash.

 

When he got home to an empty and cold apartment, tired from being hunched over the computer in his temperature centralized office, he would quietly walk into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee and make a comfortable seat to wait for his boyfriend to get home, getting used to falling asleep at the kitchen counter with empty call logs he despised, back aching when he woke up the next morning cold.

 

_Your call has reached the voicemail. Please leave the message after the beep._

_“Hello! This is Mingyu, and I’m busy. Don’t leave useless voicemails and just call my boyfriend Wonwoo and transfer your message to him instead, thanks!”_

 

Wonwoo figured he would come around, because to Wonwoo their relationship was worth all the moons in Jupiter – but Mingyu, he never came past the stars he found from drinking his alcohol. He never landed his feet back on mother land for Wonwoo to cocoon him into his warmth.

 

He could still feel the sting on his left cheek, a faint purple mark sweltering around it by then. Wonwoo had been slowly growing sick from being surrounded by false devotion, and it was only normal for him to reach his breaking point, quietly packing his clothes and their old memories far away from Mingyu.

 

_“Mingyu, it’s almost two in the morning. Why’re you late again?” He sighed, head dizzy from forcing his eyes to stare at his laptop, in effort to get some work done while he waited up for Mingyu._

_“I had things to do. Work,” he grumbled._

_“What work, Mingyu? I called you so many times and you never picked up.”_

_“I was busy Wonwoo, what’s your problem. Stop freaking interrogating me.” Mingyu could feel the annoyance and anger bubble within him._

_“Mingyu, I’m just asking. I just want to know –”_

_“God Wonwoo, what the hell is your problem?” He raised his voice, turning from the fridge to glare at Wonwoo._

_“I’m just worried for you, Mingyu. You’ve been drinking so much these days, and you barely get home sometimes. I get tired too, you know?”_

_“I do whatever the fuck I want Wonwoo. It’s none of your business, no one asked you to stay awake waiting for me!” He raised his voice._

_“None of my business?” Wonwoo eyebrow scrunched. “Mingyu, we live together, we’re committed to each other. Of course it’s my damn business! I’ve been picking up after you when you come home reeking of alcohol and your vomit, Mingyu. I clean you up, and I’ve been paying the bills and the rents by myself for us. I’ve been working overtime to fend for us. Don’t you see that the state of our home is my business?” He fumed, skinny arms flailing about in angered frustration._

_“I can’t do this alone, Gyu. I need you. I need you to help me fix things back to what it used to be,” Wonwoo’s voice softened. He stared at Mingyu’s silence._

_“Jeon Wonwoo, are you fucking blaming me?”_

_“Mingyu, I never –”_

_“No. I don’t need you tell me that I’m some useless piece of shit, and treat me like this,” Mingyu shouted. “You don’t get to sound like a goddamn saint, saying how you’re taking care of my house and feeding us both or some shit. I don’t need you, I can take care of myself independently!”_

_“Your house?” Wonwoo asked. “Mingyu this isn’t your house, it’s our house. It used to be home, Mingyu.” Wonwoo shouted, desperation hidden in his voice with every step he stomped closer to Mingyu._

_“I don’t fucking care, you’re nothing that great so act like it,” Mingyu hissed down at him._

_“Well neither are you.”_

_And that’s when Wonwoo felt hot on his cheek, barely having enough time to register the fist that raised on his left. It stung, though he wasn’t sure what hurt more – his face, the intention beneath Mingyu’s action, or his own heart. When Wonwoo looked at Mingyu with blurred eyes, he wasn’t expecting for the other to not have a change of expression due to his action._

_Mingyu didn’t look like he regretted it, his face remaining red from anger, and eyes sharply staring at Wonwoo in fury._

_“You didn’t mean to do that,” Wonwoo tried to convince, hand cupped at his cheek to ease the pain, and voice a hoarse whisper._

_“I know what I meant to do, Wonwoo.”_

_When Mingyu pushed past him harshly, he assumed Mingyu’s action wasn’t drunk, his body not whiffing the alcohol perfume he’s been sporting recently.  
_

__

__

_Mingyu had been very much sober._

_-_

_Wonwoo couldn’t recollect the sense of time when he woke up curled into the couch, sky still dark and littered by the little stars the city would allow to show at four in the morning. Mingyu was sprawled on the sheets messily when Wonwoo stepped into the room, and he quietly collected whatever belonging of his he could get hold of in their room into the nearest luggage, his ruffling barely waking Mingyu. When a fresh batch of tears threatened to blur his eyes, he chastised himself to keep it in, his lips wobbling violently from the effort._

_“Hey, Jun? Can you come pick me up?” Wonwoo whispered into the phone at four thirty._

_“Uh, hey Wonwoo, it’s Minghao. Is everything okay? Are you crying?” Minghao asked alarmed, sleep-clouded voice sounding more awake every passing second, worry taking over it._

_“Can you ask Jun to come get me?” He asked brokenly._

_“We’ll be right on our way, Wonwoo. Sit tight okay?”_

_It took Jun almost less than half the time it usually took for him to go over to Wonwoo’s. Minghao didn’t reprimand him on his speeding, instead opting to stay quiet and waited to reach Wonwoo’s soon, cautiously eyeing Junhui’s tight grip on the steering and his clenched jaw._

_“Jun, don’t do anything I wouldn’t okay?”_

_“I’m going to punch that bastard in the face.”_

_Jun was seething when he caught sight of the purpling bruise above his jaw. Minghao was calmer, collecting Wonwoo into a tight hug to press all his broken pieces together, shushing him from letting out a broken sob._

_“I’m going to kill him,” Jun gritted out._

_“Jun, let’s just bring him home.”_

 

That morning when Mingyu was woken up by the wind gushing in through the window, he was on his way to letting out an annoyed grunt, before he found the apartment as cold as the weather outside, temperature uncomfortable for both him and Wonwoo.

 

_“Wonwoo? Wonwoo. Wonwoo. Wonwoo.”_

 

But he never heard the sock-cladded feet padding through the hallway when he found the bed half empty, and neither did he smell the aroma of freshly brewed coffee since then. It took Mingyu a long time to come into terms with that.

 

_“I like my coffee black, Gyu,” Wonwoo yawned, feet dangling next to Mingyu’s figure against the counter, a hair breath’s gap comfortable between them._

_“Two sugars, baby?”_

_“You know it,” he kissed Mingyu with coffee and morning breath._

 

Mingyu looked past Wonwoo’s leaving initially. He’ll be fine, it’ll all be fine, it’ll be okay. He continued with his drinking habits, growing boastier when Seungcheol cheered on him with every glass he chugged, both the men hooting like lowly drunkards in the middle of the street, tripping upon their feet. If Mingyu was lucky enough to stumble home at night, he turned to get the wine he and Wonwoo had set in the cabinet for special occasions, hoping the drink would render him to heaven, masking the void of a beautiful Wonwoo at home.

 

But with passing days, when Mingyu had emptied all three wines straight out of the bottle, he found himself proven wrong as he functioned aimlessly without Wonwoo’s presence –Wonwoo fussing, or cooing, or looking after him. Alcohol remedy wasn’t enough to cloud the sorrow, the burn in his heart becoming a stronger flame when he downed the new bottle of whiskey he got from Seungcheol, a blunt of weed weaving its way into his system somewhere amidst.

 

With passing nights, it became normal for Mingyu to be perched on the kitchen floor in a sweatpants and Wonwoo’s old shirt, a snug fit against his drooping broad shoulders, looking like the mess he was with a bottle of whiskey burning down his throat mixed with tears – his left hand shaking as he wrote pages of vulnerable apology to his long-gone lover, ugly alphabets a sloppy honesty on paper.

 

_Wonwoo, I’m sorry._

_My dear Wonwoo._

_I can’t function without you, Won._

_Baby, please come back._

_Won, I was wrong, come back home._

_You don’t understand how it is without you._

 

Mingyu’s lungs learned to adapt to being choked by sobs, mind adapting to being filled with the remnants of memories Wonwoo had spared him, thinking of their numb lips pressed against each other under the white sheets and naked shoulders bumped together in the summer. He felt the vast space of emptiness, not only in bed, but overall in his heart, engulf his feelings, and Mingyu felt regretful over the colossal mistakes that made Wonwoo slip through his fingers. He didn’t grasp on tight enough over time.

 

_“Wonwoo, hold my hands. You’re going to fall or else!” Mingyu quickly reaches for Wonwoo who loses his balance on the low barrier._

_“You’ll never let me fall, Mingyu,” he laughs, slotting their fingers together._

 

A cigarette lit between Mingyu’s lips, he yearned to see Wonwoo one last time to tell him how sorry he was for making Wonwoo feel lonely, and like he never had enough. Flimsy winter jacket billowing in the wind, he wanted to hand Wonwoo his tear-soaked inky letters – his drafts and snippets of the most honest words he would want to relay to Wonwoo, all neatly folded into a crisp envelope, now crumpled in its permanent home in Mingyu’s jacket. He sniffled in the cold air and continued his walk, hands ghosting over his pocket. All Mingyu would want was to beg Wonwoo shamelessly for another chance that would be filled with sacrifices on his part.

 

 

 

_And one day, as he walked down the cold empty streets, he did._

_It took him six months and three quarters._

 

 

 

"Mingyu," a voice whispered, and it took Mingyu less than a second to break down into arms that used to be home.


	2. Kept

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And they'll be in love happily ever after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work is cross-posted on aff under MickeyAdoresYou.
> 
> Hint : Try see if you can guess the 5SOS and SVT lyrics hidden !

_My dearest Wonwoo,_

_I wonder how it would’ve felt for you to sleep alone in our bed, because I’ve been trying to do it since the day you left, and even when I’m curled up in the sheets, I don’t feel warm enough. It’s not the same when I don’t wake up with you by my side, or hearing your voice sing around the house. I feel bile rising up my throat when I wake up, because a house without you just feels disgusting and wrong. It isn’t home without you._

_It must’ve been hard for you, wasn’t it? I wish I could rewind all the times that I didn’t show you what you’re really worth. I’m underserving for all the kind things you’ve done for me. I’m undeserving for being ungrateful when you gave me everything, and I gave nothing back to you but hurt and loneliness. I cannot imagine how you would’ve woke up alone and have to be responsible for a grown adult. How shitty it would’ve been to not have someone to lean on and depend on. I don’t have anyone to lean on now, baby. I don’t have you._

_I was a fool to let you go, and honestly, how does one live when their other half is gone? I don’t know Wonwoo, it feels dramatized, but I can’t function without you. My heart physically clutches when I think about us – when I think about you, and when I think about what I did. I didn’t mean to raise my hand towards you. I feel disgusted about myself when I remember what I did. I feel like dying. I do not deserve a second chance with you, but I want it._

_Come back to me. I’m worthless, and the most selfish person you might’ve ever came across, but please come back to me, and love me again. I’m filthy. I’m venomous, and I’m trash, and I’m bad, and I’m anything but worth it for you but please, please, please, come back to me Wonwoo. I don’t deserve you, but I want to. You make me a better man, and when I hold you, I feel like my world is complete. I want to hold you again, Wonwoo. Make me whole again. Make us whole again, and I’ll be the luckiest man on earth. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you._

_I love you, so, so, much._

_Always yours,_

_Kim Mingyu._

 

When it comes to Mingyu, it’s hard for Wonwoo to say no. Wonwoo rereads the letter five times, hesitance void on his lips when Mingyu shakily had handed him a worn envelope, sobbing loudly, leaving an ugly mess on his face – words barely leaving his mouth coherently in his desperation to talk to Wonwoo. Wonwoo had hugged Mingyu to warm him up in the cold weather, arms rubbing softly to generate some heat into his bones, disappointment rising when he thinks about how the other had considered getting out of the house with such flimsy clothes. He smelt smoke on Mingyu, but he was very sure the other was very much sober.

 

When Wonwoo asks Mingyu to read the letter to him the fourth time going through it, he masks his surprise when the other recites the letter without throwing a glance at the stained, crumpled paper – eyes holding vulnerable gaze with Wonwoo the entire time, dripping sincerity with every word, hiccupping entirely. Wonwoo deemed the cold street unsafe for Mingyu’s well-being and opted to get him into a warm coffeehouse.

 

Mingyu sits perched on the edge of his chair, the wood feeling uncomfortable on his back when he shifts around incessantly, face puffy and lips chapped from the cold air, and crying fifteen minutes prior. He gazes at Wonwoo reading the letter for the seventh time, but he isn’t embarrassed, for his heart was all for Wonwoo, and he was presenting himself bare in front of the other, stripped off his facade and walls.

 

“How have you been, Wonwoo?” He asks, when the other neatly folds the paper, and places it under a heavy table number to safeguard it from flying away.

 

“I’m okay, Mingyu,” he answers with a small smile, hands wrapping around his mug of hot coffee. Mingyu notices it isn’t black anymore. It looks lighter, like it has a lot of milk in it. Things have changed over the months, but Wonwoo is as ethereal as ever. “How are you?”

 

Mingyu doesn’t know how to answer his question. How does he tell Wonwoo he’s been miserable ever since? Wonwoo looks okay. His skin is glowing, face unmarred from the scar Mingyu had given him the day he left. He was always glowing, a beautiful sight Mingyu missed greeting in the morning with hushed whispers.

 

“I’m not okay,” he says honestly, a sorrow smile painting his face, though Wonwoo remains silent at his answer, unnerving him, disheartened at his response.

 

“I got promoted at my job,” he switches subject. “Those overtime I worked paid off in a way I guess. Work’s less stressful nowadays,” he updates.

 

“I’m so happy for you Wonwoo,” Mingyu says sincerely. What he doesn’t understand is how subtly things have changed, from the _‘I’m so proud of yous’,_ to a _‘I’m so happy for you’._ He realizes the differences between the two phrases hold a huge significance.

 

_“Baby, I got promoted at job,” Mingyu hollered into the house, backpack and suitcase thrown next to the coat hanger the moment he stepped in to share his excitement._

_“No way!” Wonwoo ran to kiss him by the door. “I’m so proud of you, Gyu,” He held Mingyu’s face in his hands, the other’s hand winded around his waist lovingly. “You did so well.”_

_“This means I can ditch that other part time job I do from Wednesdays to Saturdays. I’ll get to spend more time with you,” he bit his lip giddily._

_“I love you so much,” he laughed in the embrace. “Now come, I’ve made us dinner. It’s Chinese noodles, your favourite,” he dragged Mingyu gently by the wrist to their quaint dining space._

 

“How’s work treating you, Mingyu?”

 

“I’m fine. Work’s okay. I quit the work I used to do on Monday nights recently. I only work two jobs now. It still keeps me financially stable.”

 

“That sounds really great,” the other smiles genuinely.

 

Mingyu couldn’t help but ask. “Have you been sleeping well, Wonwoo? The weather’s pretty harsh these days.”

 

He laughs. “I sleep great, Mingyu. Jun’s gotten a separate heater specifically for my room. It’s really warm to stay in bed and read a book.”

 

“Are you staying with Jun?”

 

“Yeah,” Wonwoo looks down at his coffee.

 

“I’m sorry,” Mingyu shakily blurts, unsure if he’s apologizing for putting Wonwoo into that situation, partially responsible for forcing Wonwoo out their home – or for wholly ruining things.

 

“Mingyu, I –”

 

“No, Wonwoo, it was my fault. It’s all my fault. I did this to you, I did this to us. Wonwoo, I’m so _sorry._ I, – I fucked everything up, and, _fuck,_ I could never take all the consequences back.” Mingyu looks down, a tear slipping out his eye.

 

“Mingyu, it was in the past. It’s, – we can’t do anything,” Wonwoo sighs.

 

Mingyu chokes on his words. “Wonwoo, that letter, – you’ve read the letter. I mean every single word, Won. Call it desperate, or whatever you want to, but it’s been so hard without you,” his voice quivers. “I can’t live like this,” he whispers.

 

“Mingyu,” he sighs again exasperatedly.

 

“Please Wonwoo, don’t leave again,” he snivels.

 

“Do you understand how it would’ve been for me?” he looks at Mingyu in the eye, the hurt in it mirroring back. “It didn’t hurt when you hit me Mingyu. It hurt more when you never called me when you never come home, and when you drifted apart. It hurt the most when I couldn’t recognize my Mingyu anymore,” his voice slowly gets softer, steady tone reducing into a whisper.

 

The past six months had been full of Wonwoo living off Jun and Minghao’s support, both materialistically and emotionally. It took Wonwoo terrible effort to try and carry out his normal daily routines steadily, on the verge of giving up if it hadn’t been for Minghao who came to breath him a good morning with a gentle pat on his back in the mornings, and Jun who hugged him over the kitchen counter at breakfast as additional energy to keep him going through the day without falling apart.

 

“It was hard to stop loving you,” Wonwoo says, and Mingyu’s breath hitches, heart stilling for deliberate seconds, ten seconds of near death, because he wonders if it’s just been too late for him to fix things, and revert to becoming the Mingyu and Wonwoo they had been over a year ago. If Wonwoo has stopped loving Mingyu anymore, then Mingyu doesn’t see the point of having anything remaining significant enough for anymore.

 

“Stop?” He chokes out a hoarse whisper.

 

“I tried so hard, Mingyu. I’m still trying. It just never seems possible for me to stop loving you,” he breathes out, voice watery.

 

“Wonwoo,” he whimpers when he catches Wonwoo’s eyes glazed over with tears. Seemingly, Mingyu will never be good in treating Wonwoo well, always prone to inflicting pain to the other whether he’s doing it consciously or unconsciously, no matter distance and physical presence. His heart aches at the reminder that he will never be a good enough person for him. “Let me fix this,” he whispers a broken voice.

 

“We’ve come too far for anything to change anymore Mingyu,” he lets a shaky sigh.

 

“No, _please,_ – please don’t give up on me yet,” Mingyu chokes out. “Give us a chance again. I’ll do anything. I’ll do everything,” he rushes, fingers itching to reach out at Wonwoo’s hands across the table, when his eye catches the other’s.

 

Wonwoo’s empty bed is a reminder that his efforts would always end up faulty, and his full heart squeezes him into choking his brain to stop function, to make his emotions shortcut into making him understand that Mingyu would always be worth it, no matter what Wonwoo does to try deny it, and how much Jun tries to brainwash him to taint Mingyu’s name further in occasional conversations. The thought of Mingyu will never stop overwhelming Wonwoo even after an entire lifetime.

 

“Fix it, Mingyu.” Wonwoo breathes out, eyes catching Mingyu’s.

 

Mingyu gives a curt nod, not taken aback. “I’ll fix this, Won.”

 

“Okay,” he gives a little nod back.

 

“I’ll tell you everything I didn’t say, and do everything I didn’t do,” he says, voice wobbly but firm, holding certainty.

 

Wonwoo nods again. Jun would reprimand him for moving too fast, probably seething in anger if he finds out what Wonwoo is doing, holding him down for a talk in fury, and maybe threaten to murder Mingyu, while Minghao tries to hold him back from causing a chaos.

 

But anything for Mingyu. Everything was always worth it for him.

 

“And then we’ll be okay, right?” Mingyu whispers, a childlike uncertainty hidden in his voice.

 

“Yeah. We’ll figure everything out and be okay,” Wonwoo gifts him a smile. It’ll be a new beginning.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started this off fully as a SoonHoon story ! I have no idea why I switched it up towards the end.
> 
> Let me know who you think would've suited the story the best x.


	3. After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These are happy days, spent with gentle hugs and trivial happiness - and they will be forever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I expect this to be this long? No, I didn't.
> 
> I should also be studying for finals instead.

Wonwoo never understood regret or pain really well – the concept of revenge sitting foreign on his tongue and chest, like the bitter taste of coffee touching his lips and warming his chest.

 

That’s exactly how he feels while he sits at the kitchen counter, socked feet skimming at the bare tiles as he sips at the coffee Mingyu left in a warm flask with a note. He waits for Mingyu to return home from wherever he’s went, the soft pitter patter of the rain outside drowning the quiet hum of the old heater they have at home.

 

He lifts his mug for another warm sip.

 

_Home._

 

Whose home is it now anyway? Is it just Mingyu’s, or is it back to being theirs? Wonwoo can’t certainly put a label on it.

 

 

When they had moved a couple of boxes back into the apartment unit in sparring times, Mingyu offering to do most of the hard work, Wonwoo was overwhelmed with the sense of familiarity.

 

It was a resultant of Mingyu’s quiet request at the thirteenth late dinner in the nearby tteokbokki stand, chopsticks pushing around the food in his bowl, and mouth chewing slowly, unlike the hearty mouths he usually takes, sloppily with a wide grin.

 

 _“Wonwoo, would you like to come back home?”_ he had asked, voice carrying a whisper in the cold winter air.

 

The soft, red carpet at the doorstep was a contrast to the bright yellow one back at Jun and Minghao’s, and the entire house had smelt like Wonwoo’s favourite tea and Mingyu’s perfume. The sweet, musky scent of sandalwood enveloping him in a warm hug, just like the man standing next to him, who stole guarded glances at Wonwoo as he stood at the doorstep to take everything in since the past few months.

 

 _“You didn’t change anything in the apartment,”_ Wonwoo had said.

 

 _“It didn’t feel right to do so,”_ Mingyu’s eyes flitted between the cold floor, and Wonwoo’s warm eyes.

 

Home was still home – and home, no matter how much Wonwoo (or Jun, for the matter) tries to deny it, is where Mingyu is.

 

The door opens with a soft click today, the sound of rain droplets being shaken out of Mingyu’s umbrella making Wonwoo turn back to look at the figure at the door. Soft hair falling into his face, Mingyu balances the plastic bags in his hand as he lets the cold and musky scent from outside evade into their warm house, carefully juggling his packed hands as he shuts the door and removes his shoes.

 

He looks up from his fringe like he’s been caught in an act, wide eyes staring at Wonwoo as if he’s guilty for making too much noise and had woken Wonwoo up. Wonwoo only smiles and pads towards the door.

 

“Hello,” Wonwoo greets.

 

He slides a couple of plastic bags out of Mingyu’s hands, the latter’s fingers cold from the weather outside unlike the warmth it usually holds when he tries to find Wonwoo’s fingers under the mess of blanket and throw pillows when they’re watching a movie in the living room.

 

“Here, give me that,” he smiles.

 

Mingyu smiles back. “Good morning,” he says softly. “I bought some eggs at the market, we ran out of it. And I got fish, to make for dinner,” he makes conversation.

 

Wonwoo listens, as they both move around the kitchen and he removes the groceries one by one from the bags. “You’re cooking tonight too?”

 

It’s been nine months since the break-up. Three months since the apology, and two months since he’s moved into their place. Yet, Mingyu has spent all of it with guarded steps, dancing around Wonwoo as if he’s stained glass and Mingyu is a tool made to break it. He’s spent all of it trying to convey his feelings and apology to Wonwoo, as he cooks for Wonwoo even after he gets home from two shifts of work, and has to fight back rush hours just to make sure he can stop by a food stand to get the last serving of Wonwoo’s favourite soup.

 

And Wonwoo knows this, because he sees the regret in Mingyu’s eyes when he hands him an ice cream sometimes, in the frozen yogurt parlour a few blocks away, the other’s eyes always tinted with a hint of apology which always works hard to try and get Wonwoo to believe him – _that believe me, I love you so much._ Mingyu occasionally believes that Wonwoo’s heart will remain as frozen as the ice cream forever, but what he doesn’t know is that Wonwoo melts a little more when he sees Mingyu’s beautiful face.

 

Wonwoo turns to put the fresh vegetables Mingyu has gotten, the vibrant red and greens standing out in their kitchen. “You’ve been cooking awful a lot lately.”

 

“Just figured I had some time,” he smiles, bringing the carton of eggs to the stove. “Tell me how you want me to cook the fish. What’re you in the mood for?”

 

Wonwoo hums as he watches Mingyu crack eggs into a bowl and shift them into a hot pan after seasoning it. His eyes follow Mingyu as he moves to get a pair of chopsticks. “Why don’t you grill it? With some vegetables?”

 

Mingyu turns to smile at him. “Sounds good. Cherry tomatoes and sweet potatoes?”

 

“Yes, please. And carrots too,” Wonwoo smiles back.

 

“Okay, I’ll peel the potatoes in the evening then.”

 

“Can I help you make it?”

 

“Of course,” Mingyu grins, and it automatically puts a soft grin on Wonwoo’s face, like a second nature, a reflex.

 

And that’s the thing. It’s how their relationship builds up, both of them cautiously taking care of each other, like it’s a secret ritual, an absolute duty of theirs to make sure their other half is always safe, and healthy.

 

When Wonwoo first saw him, months after missing his constant, Mingyu had looked so _frail,_ as compared to the muscles and beautiful tan, golden, skin he used to be. Patching up their relationship, Wonwoo realized, had brought Mingyu back to life. Wonwoo, through the small glances he takes above his bowl of soybean noodles acknowledged that meals taken together was the only meal Mingyu managed to force himself to eat, and the realization had broken his heart a little bit more.

 

Thus it was clear, for Wonwoo to always accept the food Mingyu gives him – to always know not to decline an approach for lunches together during the shy month after their reconciliation. It is a responsibility, to sit with Mingyu and eat with him, to satisfy his own beating heart and churning stomach that Mingyu is okay, and he’s back to gaining weight and giving Wonwoo his dazzling smiles again, hidden behind his cutleries.

 

Something about things like that made Wonwoo’s heart swell, so much that it takes away his hunger, though he still convinces himself to finish and stomach all the food Mingyu has made for him.

 

 _“Eat, stop looking at me.”_ Mingyu chastised, nose red from the cold, and ears red from the attention.

 

 _“Okay,”_ Wonwoo had smiled, heart warm from the sight in front of him.

 

Meals with Mingyu are also the best part of the day, for Wonwoo, because he gets to see a healthy boy in front of him, sating his eyes with the most ethereal view of Mingyu laughing around his rice, or shyly placing food into Wonwoo’s bowl. It’s the happiest he sees Mingyu, and it is enough to make him happy too.

 

When Mingyu moves to the living room after lunch, a basket full of potatoes and carrots to peel in his hand, Wonwoo turns the volume down on the TV, the third installation of Harry Potter left aside to hum in the background as he focuses his attention on the man sitting next to him instead.

 

“Increase the volume up a little, I came in here to watch the TV,” Mingyu juts out a pair of plush lips.

 

“I turned it down so you won’t be distracted,” Wonwoo laughs back.

 

“I won’t get distracted,” he gives back a shy grin.

 

“Need any help?” Wonwoo asks, reaching over to the extra knife Mingyu places on the table.

 

“Are you sure you won’t cut your hand?” Mingyu teases.

 

“You think too low of me,” Wonwoo pouts.

 

“I’m just kidding, baby,” he smiles at Wonwoo, the pet name slipping shyly. Wonwoo loves it when Mingyu calls him such, sweetly, pink dusting his cheeks. “Don’t hurt yourself peeling the carrots, Won.”

 

“I won’t, baby,” he says back, turning Mingyu scarlet.

 

Mingyu still remains cautious later, when he touches Wonwoo around the waist to move past him in the kitchen, and when he wants to scold Wonwoo for getting too close to the hot oven. There remains a nagging feeling in his chest, a warning to never be mean to Wonwoo or evade his personal space, wary of any wrong move he might make. Wonwoo despises this, though refusing to voice it out, because he understands Mingyu’s cautiousness, how he might feel after losing someone – so he doesn’t say anything when Mingyu calls him over to feed him some fish from the pan, only complimenting the taste with a hand placed on the others’ hip.

 

“Does it need more salt?”

 

“No, it’s perfect.” Wonwoo chews. “It’s always perfect,” he says, referring to not only the food, but the man he is with, and everything about him – and little does Mingyu know this.

 

There’s barely left a sliver of sun outside, when Wonwoo’s lips are greasy and glistening with the residue of smoked butter, and Mingyu finally cuts into his fillet to take a tiny bite after glancing at Wonwoo, a satisfied hum escaping his lips, a small smile playing on it. They sit around the small dining table, socked feet nudging each other. It’s almost as if the past few months never happened.

 

Wonwoo absolutely loves days like this.

 

It’s later when Mingyu takes Wonwoo’s plate away, stopping the other from making the dishes as he walks into the kitchen, sleeves of his sweater rolled up to get prepared for cleaning. Wonwoo is grateful, very much so, to be here again, in a house they call their own, with a boyfriend who loves him with his entire being. Wonwoo doesn’t think, neither does he stop himself, when he shuffles over to where Mingyu is standing, hands wrapping around his waist as he lays his head on broad shoulders.

 

“Hi,” Wonwoo says.

 

Mingyu stiffens, but accepts, face turned to catch Wonwoo giving him the softest smile, affection pouring through his soul. He wonders how much regret he would’ve been wallowing in if he hadn’t gotten Wonwoo back, if he would have able to have lived without coming home to this beautiful man again, if it was possible to carry on a life without seeing the prettiest grin Wonwoo shines him. Mingyu cannot imagine, cannot fathom the possibility of a life as devastating as that, and he’s barely thinking either when he presses his lips against Wonwoo’s, a thumb brushing his jaw, fingers dancing on a cheek he once hurt a short time ago - and he's filled with regret.

 

His lips are chapped, but he hopes Wonwoo doesn’t care, when he presses his lips against Wonwoo’s the second time, a little harder, but pace kept slow – heart warm in the middle of winter, desperate to convey his feelings to Wonwoo. Wonwoo reciprocates the affection, mind void of any thoughts but the person in front of him who has given his entire heart as Wonwoo’s property.

 

“I love you, Wonwoo,” Mingyu whispers against his lips.

 

“I know,” he whispers back, nosing Mingyu. “So do I.”

 

Mingyu’s heart is filled with love, one he wonders if he will have enough time to shower Wonwoo with, and he hopes the life the universe holds in front of them will always provide him an opportunity to love this man the best, fingers always tingling with the buzz of emotions he tries to hold in. And Mingyu suddenly hopes, that God, please never let Wonwoo slip through his fingers again – let them live in a world that cocoons the both of them in a sphere of their own.

 

“God Wonwoo, I love you _so much,”_ he chokes out a whisper again, the fondness in his voice unrestrained. “I don’t ever want to be in a world without you.”

 

Wonwoo stares back at him, eyes full of love, and adoration, and affection – but it will never get overwhelming, because he will spend the rest of his life relishing this feeling of being with Mingyu.

 

“Me neither, baby. I love you,” he says, punctuating his words with another soft peck of their lips.

 

When hands caress jaws, and fingers tighten around waists, the cold weather tapping against their window is not heeded as plush lips are enough to thaw any cold ice. That’s what Mingyu briefly thinks, soft lips coddling against thin ones – slowly, gently – soothing and warmer than any tea Wonwoo could drink in winter. Wonwoo loves the taste of this, and resides in the feeling of Mingyu’s strong arms around his body.

 

Sharp knocks at the door gets Mingyu to slide his fingers from Wonwoo’s face, lips parting. Four taps, each with a one second interval that gets Mingyu’s heart to beat in sync with it, because the knock abruptly reminds him of the existence of the outside world – the outside world that’s capable of taking his Wonwoo away, and he sighs when he looks away from Wonwoo, fingers sinking deep into the basin to clear the dishes, a conversation and moment broken from insistent _tap tap taps_ from outside.

 

Wonwoo doesn’t move his eyes away from Mingyu’s frame, when the taller suddenly crumples into himself with hunched shoulders and soapy hands that are bound to get wrinkly – and yet, he cannot wait until he gets to feel those cold, pruned fingers caressing his face again.

 

He doesn’t want Mingyu to mistake, and this spurs him to softly thread his fingers through Mingyu’s hair, a silent reassurance to tell him to _not worry, I’m here._ Mingyu leans a little into it, but otherwise doesn’t make a show to look at Wonwoo.

 

When another set of knocks sound from outside, Wonwoo shuffles quietly to the short hallway and opens the door for his guests. He’s not taken aback to catch sight of Junhui standing at his doorstep, a frown carved into his face, with a smiling Minghao by his side, both with hands full of convenience store plastics.

 

“Hi, Wonwoo,” Minghao shows his teeth, and Wonwoo feels warm to have his friends in his house.

 

“I brought you your favourite snacks,” Junhui grunts, though hiding a grin, part dissatisfied that the house occupies another tenant besides his best friend.

 

“Come in.”

 

The voices from the living room carries its way to the kitchen, nearing Mingyu as he hears plastic bags being placed on the counter behind him, the sound of feet shuffling into the premises filtering in softly. His body goes rigid, stiff as he scrubs off the stain on the pot he’s cleaning before he attempts to relax and turn his body. Wonwoo sees how tight the smile Mingyu throws them looks, notices the anxiousness in his eyes, and the strain in his voice when he greets their visitors.

 

“Hello. Welcome,” he smiles at them.

 

“Hi Mingyu.” Minghao greets back. “You guys made dinner? I can still smell food in the house, and it smells great,” he says, kind at Mingyu as he builds up a conversation.

 

“Yeah, we did.” His smile remains polite, yet genuine. “If we had known you were coming over, I would have made more.”

 

“What a shame. We should all have dinner sometime soon. Maybe you can cook then,” Minghao continues. Jun remains silent by his side, eyes avoiding contact with the man Wonwoo lives with.

 

Jun clears his throat. “Wonwoo, if you finish up the goddamn Pepero sticks and banana chips within a week again, I swear to god I’m disowning you,” he diverts all attention, busying himself as he unloads the plastic. “Even Minghao doesn’t burn my pocket as much as you do.”

 

Wonwoo’s mouth curves upwards. “Hey now, you’re the one who comes over buying food. I don’t remember ever asking you for any of them.”

 

“Ungrateful Wonwoo, you’re so ungrateful,” he nags, throwing a box of Pepero at his friend’s general direction.

 

Mingyu doesn’t look back, still busying himself with rinsing the dishes and wiping them clean by the sink, pace steady and slow as he buys himself sometime before he has to turn around and make conversation at Jun, the man Mingyu knows holds a deep hatred towards him. Mingyu has no right to blame him for that – he understands why Junhui would feel so about him.

 

Its only minutes later when Minghao is opening a bag of chips to share when Mingyu finally participates in the conversation, getting hold of the soft look Wonwoo gives him, a sign of thanking Mingyu to join his friends. He smiles back.

 

“It’s really cold these days,” he starts. “How did you guys come here?”

 

“Jun drove,” Minghao replies with a smile.

 

“I remember Wonwoo saying how the engine froze the other day because of the weather. Is it fixed now?” He tries asking Jun.

 

“Yeah, it’s all okay now. Had to pay quite a bit for it though, since the car’s pretty old by itself,” Minghao answers for him instead, covering up the lone silence following Mingyu’s question when Jun gives no response.

 

“Maybe I can help next time. I’ve had my car doing that to me too back at home last time, and it’s pretty easy to fix once you know which wires to play around with,” he says.

 

“I don’t need your help,” Jun cuts him coldly.

 

“Oh. Yeah, um, that’s alright. I was just–” Mingyu stutters to take his words back in a panic. His hands are in a tight clasp, cold and twitching when he averts eyes to his lap.

 

“Quit trying so hard to fix things.”

 

 _“Jun,”_ Wonwoo warns.

 

“No, I don’t get it Wonwoo,” he stands up. “Why are you still trying to fix things with him?” He turns to his best friend.

 

“Jun, cut it out,” Minghao reprimands, trying to stop his boyfriend from hurling hurtful words.

 

“Get out of it Wonwoo. Get out of your fucking head and see things properly! He’s never going to do you any good, and even if he does he’s never gonna do it for long,” he relents, anger bubbling with the sight of Mingyu in front of him. “Stop deluding yourself into loving him and–”

 

“Stop it, Jun.” Wonwoo raises his voice. “Just fucking stop it! You don’t get to fucking tell me who I should and shouldn’t love. You know I love him, but you keep forcing me into making decisions against what I want to do. Why don’t you understand how I feel?”

 

“It’s for your own good, Won–”

 

“You keep saying it’s for my own good but you don’t get how it hurts me, Jun. You keep hurting me and you keep hurting Mingyu, and I don’t like what that does. Stop saying shit about him. I love you, but stop telling me what to do,” he heaves a breath.

 

The room is silent, and Jun is left staring at his friend with a tight jaw and hard eyes. Minghao is silent, and when Wonwoo catches sight of Mingyu, he feels sorry for the latter. He doesn’t deserve this, no matter what he’s done in the past. Mingyu doesn’t deserve being insulted and pinned at over and over again when Wonwoo is trying so hard to move on from the past.

 

Mingyu sits at the corner of the counter with his head hanging low, but Wonwoo sees how his tall body is shaking, and how white his hands look twisted together in his lap. He thinks about the amount of time Jun has fleetingly belittled Mingyu – be it when he calls Wonwoo or when he texts him, or even when they’re out somewhere and Mingyu is right by his side. Junhui always throws a blunt comment in the defense of protecting Wonwoo – and no matter how many times Wonwoo softly begs him to stop, Junhui doesn’t, like a strict, protective mother.

 

“I’m leaving,” Jun announces, rising to his feet.

 

When they move towards the door, Mingyu still remains seated quietly in the kitchen. Jun grabs his coat and hesitates before he turns around to look at Wonwoo, feeling guilt course through him when he catches the distress enveloping his best friend, shoulders tense.

 

“I’m sorry,” Jun says sincerely, loud enough to be heard to both the occupants of the house, before he opens the door and steps out to leave, and Wonwoo cannot register who the sorry was directed to.

 

Minghao sighs before turning to follow. “I’m sorry about him, Wonwoo. Please tell Mingyu I said sorry too. I’ll see you.”

 

“Tell Jun I’ll call him later,” Wonwoo relays before waving him out.

 

When the door shuts close and Wonwoo turns back, he catches the watery smile Mingyu gives him while walking into the living room. Wonwoo itches to say something – an apology on behalf of Junhui, or an encouragement and words of love. Though Wonwoo, understands that it wouldn’t take Jun’s words back, and he lets himself watch Mingyu slowly trudge to their bedroom with hunched shoulders, void of any pride. Wonwoo despises that look on him – when those broad shoulders were made to stand tall and strong, but is instead reduced to broken.

 

It is minutes later when Wonwoo retires to the room to check on Mingyu, the kitchen cleaned from any specks of dropped potato chips. When he enters, Mingyu is retreating from the bathroom, changed into warm clothes to sleep in, but face splotchy and red, hands toying with the towel in his hand at the sight of Wonwoo. Wonwoo breathes out a silent sigh, moving towards the tall man standing at the edge of his bed, hands raised to brush slender fingers against the tan cheek. He raises on his toes to reach a soft kiss on Mingyu’s forehead before moving to wash up for the night, emotionally exhausted and tired.

 

Mingyu lays in bed, mind whirring with possibilities of Wonwoo taking heed to Junhui’s warnings. As he stares the ceiling, he doesn’t notice how his eyes water when he wonders if _this is it_ – if its time when Wonwoo finally realized how worthless and undeserving Mingyu is, vision blurry when he thinks if Wonwoo would emerge from the bathroom with new mind, as he will pack his bags and leave the place they call home. His arm cramps underneath his head, but Mingyu can’t pay any attention to it, since it hurts more in his chest, almost physically, and his breath constrains.

 

The soft creak of the bathroom door has Mingyu out of his reverie, body turning away from Wonwoo as he squeezes his eyes shut and controls his shaky breaths. He looks like he’s curled into himself, like he’s in physical pain, and this makes Wonwoo deposit his towel at the side of the bed before he climbs onto it, the mattress dipping the slightest bit –and Mingyu’s body stiffens.

 

“Gyu, hey. Are you still awake?”

 

Mingyu likes to think he isn’t an anxious man, but it wouldn’t be the truth, as he is weak when it comes to dealing any matter with Wonwoo. Despite this, he manages to regain composure to turn at Wonwoo with a smile, though it deceives, since his red eyes give it away.

 

Wonwoo doesn’t speak, but instead pulls the cover onto them, seeking bits of warmth in the cold weather. When the sheets sit soft on Mingyu’s waist, calming against the smooth material of his striped shirt, Wonwoo nestles into Mingyu’s chest, a content sigh escaping his lips. It takes no time for Mingyu’s arms to go around Wonwoo’s waist, an instinctive action to protect him from any harm, or even the harsh weather.

 

Wonwoo cups a hand around Mingyu’s cheek, thumb brushing against the wetness Mingyu didn’t realize was left there, his eyes finding the other hesitantly. Wonwoo decides, the worst kind of hurt is seeing your loved one in pain, distraught and painted in sad vulnerability.

 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he whispers.

 

He doesn’t understand how Mingyu is overwhelmed, heart scratching against his chest painfully to pour out his feelings to Wonwoo, words stuck in his throat, thick with choked tears. He’s desperate in a way he’s never been before – not even when he confessed after the break up, and the rush of emotions turns Mingyu numb, mind engulfed in everything, and nothing at all.

 

So he says, the only words he could ever relay to Wonwoo by heart.

 

“I love you,” he whispers. “I hope you know that.”

 

“I know, Mingyu,” Wonwoo cards his fingers through Mingyu’s hair. “And I know you never stopped.”

 

“I’m sor-”

 

 _“No._ You need to quit saying that because we’ve both agreed to move on from that. Stop beating yourself up, Mingyu. I don’t like it when you do that.”

 

“Junhui’s right,” his breath stutters. “He’s so right about everything he says about me and–”

 

“Stop it Mingyu,” Wonwoo scolds. “You know he isn’t right.”

 

“Won, you know you deserve better. I _hurt you so much,_ treated you like shit,” he steadies his gaze on Wonwoo firmly, albeit watery. “I– I fucking ruined everything and I’ll never fucking be the boyfriend you deserve, Wonwoo.”

 

 _“Baby,”_ Wonwoo whispers. 

 

 _“I’ll never be enough,”_ he whispers painfully, and Wonwoo’s heart clenches at the pain weaving through Mingyu’s words.

 

“Remind yourself about how amazing you were before that, then,” Wonwoo starts. “Try to remember how you used to try read my books along with me to make me happy, and force on extra socks when I’m cold. How you used to carry me to bed when I fell asleep on the couch, and how you always made me food thrice a day as much as you can. How you bought me hot drinks and how you gave me your heart. How you _love me,_ and how you became my motivation.” Wonwoo says all this, eyes holding Mingyu’s and fingers pressing to wipe away the lone tear slipping out the other’s eye – and he breaks a little to see Mingyu so small, so unsure and vulnerable beside him.

 

“I’ll never know what I did to have you, Wonwoo,” Mingyu closes his eyes, a wet tear catching in his eyelashes. “But I’ll always be grateful for it. All my life, Wonwoo – I’ll spend _all my life_ to make you happy,” Mingyu says, a hand brushing at Wonwoo’s jaw, cradling his face - the one he had stained with pain months ago - and then moves to brush a lock of hair off his forehead.

 

“And I’ll have no doubts in believing you on that,” Wonwoo whispers back, a press of lips against the man he loves.

 

And Wonwoo is sure that when morning light comes past the thin curtains, filtered by the foggy air tomorrow, the sheets might be cold – but his heart will remain warm. Because Mingyu will greet him with a press of his bones together with a gentle hug past the door – a cup of takeaway coffee in his hand and loving greeting on his lips. Wonwoo will pepper kisses on him as Mingyu’s soft laugh reverberates within the apartment, and nestle his face against cold nose and warm collarbones, happy that he is living his life with the man he loves.

 

_“Baby, you’ll get late for work.”_

 

_“I don’t care.”_

 

It will all be okay, and even Mingyu is sure of this – because their love will be eternal.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for everyone who read the last two chapters and encouraged me for more, and for my best friend who came up with the title for this entire story.
> 
> Let me know if Evanescence made you feel things. (Drop comments !) Thank you x.


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